
WAR DEPARTMENT 


SERVICE EDITION NUMBER 5. 


PS 3521 
. U8 C8 
1918 
Copy 1 


/ 


CROOKS 


A Playlet 


BY * 

NATHAN KUSSY 

n 


The use of this piece by courtesy of its Author. 
Dramatic Rights by courtesy of Sanger and Jordan 


Copyright, 1918, By Nathan Kussy 


WASHINGTON 

Commission on Training Camp Activities 
Department of Dramatic Activities Among the 
Soldiers. 

1918 . 


Monograph 





16 1318 

©CIO 50176 T 

Avi V" 



CHARACTERS. 


Dukey. 

Butch McCoy. 

English Jack. 

Jim Welsh. 

Foxey Coppy. 

Scene : — Library in Mr. Losner’s residence on 
Riverside Drive. Mahogany bookcases along 
wall to the left of stage, with busts of Shakes¬ 
peare, Dickens, and other literary men upon 
them. In centre of stage a mahogany library 
table with silver writing set and lamp. Re¬ 
clining chair l. 1e. Other chairs about table 
near r. 3e. Pedestal with statue r. 1e. Small 
mahogany table r. 2e. with silver loving cup, 
paper cutter and other articles. Also tele¬ 
phone instrument upon table. An arched 
doorway r. 3e. with red plush portieres sus¬ 
pended from it, leads to adjoining room. 
The rear of the library opens into hallway. 
Columns to each side rising to ceiling. There 
is a stained glass window in hallway which is 
partly raised. 

Discovered :—When the curtain rises, all is dark. 
Dukey and Butch McCoy enter from hallway 
with bags upon their shoulders half filled 
with valuables. At first, nothing can be seen 
but the light which they flash from the dark 
lanterns upon objects in the room.. Suddenly 
the light from Dukey’s lantern rests upon 
English Jack, who is calmly seated in chair 
l. 1e. with revolver in his hand. At the same 
moment, the light from McCoy’s lantern 
illumines Jim Welsh, who is standing near 
r. 1e., pointing a revolver at McCoy. 

Dukey. Hell! 

McCoy. Damn it! 

Jack. Don’t take any gun out of your pocket, 

or I’ll shoot. 

2 


McCoy. What’s (lis—a frame-up? 

Welsh. No, but; we’ve got you just the same. 

Jack. Kindly light that electric lamp upon 
the table. ( Dukey obeys. The room is lighted 
up). 

Dukey. Who the hell are you, anyhow? 

Jack. I’m the owner of this place. 

McCoy. Hully gee! I t’ought you wuz in New¬ 
port. 

Jack. No. My family is there, but I remained 
in town. 

McCoy. (In disgust ) Dat’s a fine game, 
dat is! ( Puts dotvn bag ) An’ us goin’ to all dis 
trouble fer nahtin’! 

Dukey. So you’re Mr. Losner? 

Jack. That’s my name. 

Dukey. And he -? (Indicating Welsh). 

Jack. My eldest son. 

Welsh. It’s mighty fortunate that we stayed 
at home as we did or you fellows would have car¬ 
ried away the house. 

McCoy. (In protest) Forchunit? Wot’s 
forehunit about it? Here’s me workin’ like a 
hod-carrier on a hot night, an’ w’en I makes a 
nice haul fer de foist time in six mont’s, youse 
guys pops in an’ knocks de hull t’ing in de head. 
D’ye call dat fair play? 

Jack. We won’t discuss that now. (To Dukey) 
Please put down your bag too, it’s rather heavy, 
I imagine. 

Dukey. Not too heavy for me, if you’ll only 
let me carry it. 

Jack. Sorry I can’t oblige you; but my wife 
is very particular about household articles. She 
hates to have any silverware missing. And as 
for jewels—I suppose you haven’t 'overlooked 
them either. 

McCoy. I got dem. But wot’s de use? W’en 
a man's got bad luck- 


3 




Welsh. Yes, it’s too bad; but mother is so 
particular that we really can’t let you get away 
with these things. 

McCoy. (To Dukey ) Diden’ I tell ye, w’en 
dat black cat ran acrosst me path last night? I 
knowed den- 

Dukey. You’re nutty. That wasn’t any cat. 
That was a brown-haired dog. 

McCoy. A dawg? I tells yez et wuz a black 
cat. (With a forlorn look at his captors ) Don’ 
dis prove it wuz a black cat? 

Dukey. I tell you it was a brown-haired dog 
that looked dark at night. 

McCoy. A brown-haired dawg? Did yez eveh 
see a brown-haired dawg dat barked “meow” at 
night? 

Jack. I don’t think I did. At any rate, it 
doesn’t interest me very much. (To Welsh ) 
James, hand me } r our revolver so that I may keep 
both gentlemen covered while you telephone for 
the police. 

Dukey. You’ve got your goods. What more 
do you want? 

McCoy. I should say so! A man can’t oin a 
decent livin’ nowadays witout havin’ de cops but¬ 
tin’ in. An’ dey call dis a free country! 

Welsh. (Handing English Jack his revolver) 
We can’t let you go. You’d pay us another visit 
when we’re away. 

McCoy. Hones’! I’ll neveh come wit’in a mile 
o’ dis place again. Et’s hoodooed. Look-a here! 
Who eveh t’ought o’ you two guys toinin’ up to¬ 
night? Coulden’yez wait till temorreh jes’ as 
well? No! Yez got te toin up tonight. Jes’ w’en 
we’s busy! 

Jack. (Smiling) I’m afraid there wouldn’t 
have been much left in my house if we hadn’t 
turned up as we did. 

Welsh. Do you think that we’ll permit men 
4 



of your type to invade our homes and rob us of 
our most cherished mementoes and- 

McCoy. ( Querulously) Don’ chuck dem big 
woids at me. I don’ know wot che talkin’ about 
anyhow. All I know is dis, ef et wuzen’ fer dat 
black cat- 

Dukey. It wasn’t, I tell you. It was a brown¬ 
haired dog. 

McCoy. All right. Ef et wuzen’ fer dat brown¬ 
haired dawg dat barked “meow” like a cat we’d 
a made our getaway long ago. 

Jack. (To Welsh) You had better telephone 
right away. 

Dukey. Don’t! What good do you gain by 
having us pinched? 

McCoy. Dat’s de question. Wot good do youse 
have out o’ me siftin’ in de cooler, an’ drinkin’ 
doity wateh, w’en I might jes’ ez well be out loose, 
drinkin’ beer? W’y et’d bring youse more bad 
luck dan—say (to English Jack) pull out dat 
rosebush by de windeh dat I climbed in. Don’ 
leave et dere, or dis house’ll be alwuz hoodooed. 

Jack. What’s the matter with the rosebush? 

McCoy. (To Dukey) Did yez see et’s shadow? 

Dukey. Oh, give us a rest with your shadows! 

McCoy. W’en I climbed in, an’ looked down, I 
t’ought sure et wuz a owl lookin’ up at me. No 
wondeh we wuz pinched! 

Welsh. (Advancing to telephone) That sort 
of life doesn’t pay, boys. 

Dukey. For heaven’s sake, don’t snitch on us! 
Don’t get us jugged! 

Welsh. Why not? You surely don’t deserve 
any consideration from us. If we hadn’t come 
back just at this time- 

McCoy. But dat ain’ our fault. Ef et wuzen* 
fer de black- 

Dukey. (To McCoy) Shut up! (To English 
Jack) We’re crooks, and you guys probably feel 






that the quicker we’re put out of the way, the 
better for everybody. All right. Maybe you’re 
right. But at home, I—I- 

Jack. Well, speak up! What is it? 

Dukey. I’ve got a wife who doesn’t know any¬ 
thing about the life I’ve been leading. She thinks 
I’m honest. She thinks I work at night in a fac¬ 
tory. If she heard of this it would kill her. 

McCoy. (Following the cue , in plaintive ac¬ 
cents) An’ I got a fahder, an’ a mudder—an a 
old gran’fahder. 

Dukey. (With suppressed anger ) Shut up! 

McCoy. (In surprised tones) W’y ain’ I got 
az good a right to have a fahder an’ mudder an’ 
gran’fahder ez you got to have a wife ? 

Jack. (In amusement) Of course, he has that 
right. 

McCoy. (To Dukey) See! Diden’ I tell ye? 

Dukey. (In disgust) You damn fool, you! 

McCoy. (Hurt) Foist ye want me as a pal, 
den yez call me a damn fool. If ye’re goin’te 
treat me dat way, I don’ care wot becomes o’ me. 
I might jes’ ez well live a hones’ life an’ be done 
wit’ et. 

Dukey. (To Jack and Welsh) Now listen! 
You can have me pinched if you want to. You’ve 
got the drop on me, and I haven’t any say in this 
matter. But if you let me go you’ll never have 
this house cleaned out again. I’ll see to it that 
the word is carried along the line that no gun or 
second-story man is ever to make a haul in this 
house. And they won’t. I give you my word that 
your property will be respected hereafter and 
when I say a thing- 

Welsh. How do we know that we can trust 
you? 

McCoy. His woid’s ez good as his bond any 
day. 

Jack. That may be well enough- 

6 





McCoy. Mine too! 

Jack. But I don’t know you two. 

McCoy. Oh, we kin give yez any numbah o’ 
references. Any fly-cop kin tell yez about us. We 
got our mugs in de family album at Police Head- 
quahtehs an’—Oh, we’re putty well known even 
if we ain’ rich. 

Jack. ( Rising) People in my station of life 
must assume certain responsibilities to society. 
I don’t know what circumstances led you into 
crime, or what sort of men you are- 

McCoy. ( Eagerly ) Hones’, boss. I’s as nice 
a crook as ye want to see. 

Jack. But it strikes me that I haven’t any 
right to let you go forth to prey upon others. 

McCoy. Don’ let dat worry you. I ain’ goin’ 
to pray. I neveh prayed in my life. 

Dukey. What’s the use of giving us a sermon ? 
You’ve got us dead to rights. If you want to have 
us pinched you can do it. But what do you gain ? 
There’s no satisfaction in it. 

McCoy. No, there’s no satisfaction in it. 

Dukey. Here’s your goods. If you let us go, 
we go away without a cent’s worth of your stuff. 
Have a heart, and let us make a getaway! 

Jack. If I thought that you meant to be honest 
hereafter- 

McCoy. Hones’? Sure I will! I’ll swear 
neveh to break into anoddeh house wit’ a black 
cat. 

Jack. {To Welsh) What do you say, James? 

Welsh. To tell the truth, father, I hate the 
thought of turning men over to the police. 

McCoy. ( Heartily ) Now, ye’ve got de right 
idear. 

Welsh. I feel like giving them another chance. 
Jack. Do you? Well, perhaps you’re right. I 
don’t feel so keen about sending men to prison. 
Somehow, I hate the thought of men confined in 
7 




their cells. 

McCoy. Ye can’t hate it any more’n we do. 

Jack. And so I think I’ll give you two fellows 
another chance. Just go to that hall window 
through which you entered, and get out as you 
came in . 

Dukey. ( Gratefully) You’re all right, Mr. 
Losmer. You’re—why, you’re gold all through. 

McCoy. You got a heart, you is. Dere ain’ 
many gen’lemen o’ my acquaintance is ez decent ez 
you. (They go up stage to window in hallway). 

Welsh. Well, boys, I wish you good luck. 

McCoy. T’anks, but it’s too late to do any 
more bizness tonight. ( Dukey and McCoy climb 
out of window and disappear.) (No sooner have 
they gone, than English Jack and Jim Welsh 
laugh aloud in amusement). 

Welsh. That certainly is a rich joke! 

Jack. And their faces! They swallowed every 
word we said. They must have read that society 
notice about the Losmers going to Newport for 
the week-end. 

Welsh. I suppose so—same as we did. (Point¬ 
ing to bags left behind) Look at their swag. 
Saves us some work. Where are our bags? 

Jack. (Advancing toward chair l. 1e.) I 
threw them behind this chair. Here they are. 
Now, the thing to do is to fill our bags too, and 
then to skip with the whole haul. 

Welsh. Let’s go into the room at the upper 
end of the hallway. I think it’s the drawing-room. 
There ought to be a lot more to be had. 

Jack. Put out the light. (Welsh turns off the 
electric light. They take dark lanterns from their 
bags and open the slides, flashing the light 
about). 

Welsh. Come on. (They go up stage to hall¬ 
way, and turn to left.) (Scarcely have they dis¬ 
appeared when a head is raised to the open win- 
8 


dow in the hallway, the light of a lantern flashes 
into the room and the next moment Foxey Coppy 
climbs through the opening into the house. From 
his uniform it is evident that he is a policeman. 
As he climbs over the window sill, he draws a 
revolver from his pocket and holds it in his right 
hand. The other hand flashes a lantern about 
the hallway. 

Advancing down stage, he encounters the two 
bags left behind by Dukey and McCoy. Utters an 
exclamation. Flashes lantern about. Goes cau¬ 
tiously to r. 3b. and listens. Then enters hallway 
and turns to left. Disappears from view for a 
moment, then re-enters room, treading very cau¬ 
tiously. Goes to r. 1e., puts down lantern, and 
takes a revolver from his left hip pocket. Holds 
one weapon in each hand. Taking up lantern he 
lowers the slide, and then places it upon the floor. 
The room is now in darkness. 

After a moment, English Jack and Welsh re¬ 
enter room, carrying bags with a few articles 
therein. They flash their lanterns before them, 
but the light does not disclose Coppy). 

Welsh. Not much left worth taking there in 
that room. 

Jack. I guess the other guys cleaned out most 
of the silver. It must be in one of those bags. 

Welsh. Well, I’ll light up, and then we’ll skid- 
doo. Not a bad night’s haul! (Turns on electric 
light). 

Coppy. (With revolver in each hand) Hands 
up! 

Jack. (Obeying command) Pinched! 

Welsh. Doesn’t this beat hell? (Puts up his 
hands). 

Coppy. Caught wit’ de goods on, dis time! 

Jack. (Affecting indignation) Why, what 
does this mean, officer? To arrest a man in his 
own house, when he has just discovered that burg- 


lars have been present! 

Coppy. Looks to me ez dough dey’re present 
now. 

Jack. Why, I came home less than half an hour 
ago and found these bags upon the floor, while 
these two bags we discovered in the drawing¬ 
room. I was just about to notify the police 
when- 

Ooppy. Et’s all right. De p’lice know of et. 
Keep yer hands up w’ile yer talkie or ye might 
have a hole t’roo yer chest suddin\ 

Welsh. But how can you talk that way to my 
father-? 

Coppy. (With a threatening movement of his 
revolver) See here! (Welsh subsides) Yer poor 
fahder’s got troubles o’ his own jes’ now, an’ you 
got your troubles, so don’ bodder about him. 

Jack. But I can’t understand this outrage. To 
arrest a respectable citizen in his own house! 

Coppy. Say, who d’ye t’ink ye are, anyhow? 

Jack. I’m Mr. Losmer. 

Coppy. My! But dat day at Newport did ye a 
lot o’ good. Ye lost yer grey hair, an’ ye look 
twenty years younger den ye did w’en I seen ye 
yeste’day. 

Jack. (Altering his manners and submitting 
to the inevitable) Oh hell! What’s the use of 
talking? You’ve got us dead to rights. 

Coppy. Bat’s wot I kinder t’ink meself. 

Welsh. May I offer you a cigar, officer? 
(About to lower his hands). 

Coppy. No, ye may not. (Welsh raises hands 
again) Can’t take et jes’ now. Me han’s is busy. 
I’ll take et afteh aw’ile. 

Welsh. (In disgust) The hell you will! It’s 
the last one I’ve got. 

Coppy. I don’ mind dat. Et smokes jes’ de 
same. 

Jack. See here, officer, how much is this worth 

10 





to you? 

Coppy. (Suspiciously) Wot are you up to? 
D’ye wan’ te bribe me? 

Jack. Oh, come now. Let’s talk business. 
What do you say to a hundred cash down? 

Coppy. A hundred? Let me tell yez dat yez 
can’t bribe a hones’ man like me fer a hundred an’ 
twenty-five. 

Welsh. We’ll make it two hundred. 

Coppy. (Emphatically) Neveh! I ain’t a rich 
man, but I try to do me duty. I don’ make no big 
splurge in de world, but I try to do de best I kin. 
So long as I woik fer de city, I gotta do de square 
t’ing by et. An’ dere ain’ money anough in de 
woild te make a feller like me a grafter. 

Jack. (Changing his method of appeal) I was 
honest too, once. There wasn’t any man honester 
than I, but I was ruined by a crooked partner 
who defrauded me of every dollar I had in the 
world, and left my family penniless. 

Welsh. I had a crooked partner too. It’s well 
enough for men like you, officer, to be honest, but 
what would you do if you had an old mother de¬ 
pendent upon you—a sick woman—and not a 
cent in the house? 

Jack. —or a wife and two children? Why, 
officer, it’s hell—that’s what it is—to see your 
wife and little ones crying for food and not a 
cent in the house. 

Coppy. Dat’s no reason fer bein’ burglars. I’ve 
had me share o’ hard luck, too. 

Jack. One night she was sick, and I stayed 
up until morning, and she needed medicines and 
there wasn’t a cent with which to buy them. I 
went out, and picked a woman’s pocket. It was 
the first wrong step. But could you blame me, 
officer?—could you blame me? 

Welsh. When my mother was sick with pneu¬ 
monia, and needed a nurse, and I was out of a 
11 


job- 

Coppy. Keep yer han’s up, will yez? 

.Jack. It’s a hard life, officer, but- 

Welsh. (To Jack, in disgust ) Quit it! What’s 
the use of talking? He don’t believe a word of 
it anyhow. 

Jack. I know he doesn’t, but what the hell is 
one going to do when there’s a gun staring him 
in the face? 

Coppy. An’ now I’ll call up Headquarters. 
(Advancing a few steps up stage). 

Jack. For heaven’s sake, be easy with us! 
We’re caught with the goods, but we’re not really 
bad men. We’ve never been in prison, though 
we’ve done many things we shouldn’t. It’ll kill 
my wife if I’m sent up, officer! ( His pleading 
voice appears to affect Coppy). 

Coppy. But wot am I te do? De idea o’ foist 
breakin’ into a house, an’ den tryin’ to bribe a 

officer to keep yez out o’ jail- (After a pause) 

-fer two hundred dollars. 

Jack. (Struck by the emphasis placed upon 
the words) I’ll make it two fifty. 

Welsh. More! We’ll make it more, if neces¬ 
sary. 

Coppy. Wot! D’ye t’ink I’m a grafter? D’ye 
wan’ te bribe a officer? (Altering his tones) 
How much is you two geezers got between yez, 
anyhow? 

Jack. I’ve got two hundred in my pockets. 

Welsh. And I’ve got a hundred and fifty. 

Coppy. (Indignantly) Den w’y in hell diden’ 
yez tell me yez had dat much long ago? (To 
Jack) Put down one hand an’ empty yer pocket 
while I keeps ye covered. (Jack obeys) Now, 
de oddeh pocket. Put de money on de table— 
Any more? Now you! (To Welsh) One hand at 
a time—put et on de table. 

Welsh. Here’s every dollar I have. 

12 






Coppy. Well, I ain’ askin’ any more, am I— 
An’ now, boys, I’m goin’ to let yez make a get¬ 
away, but I want yez to understan’ one t’ing. 
Et ain’ de money dat makes me easy wit’ yez, 
et’s yer story o’ hard luck. I had me wife sick 
las’ winter, an’ I know wot et means. Yez kin 
put down yer mitts. (They drop their hands). 

Jack. Sure. And we want to tell you that we 
appreciate it. It isn’t every man that can under¬ 
stand those things. 

Welsh. ( Relieved) You’ve got your heart in 
the right place, all right. 

Coppy. I’m a family man, an’ I knows. 

Jack. Well, we’re much obliged to you, officer, 
and we want to thank you. (Advances up stage). 

Welsh. (Following him) Thank you. (Fer¬ 
vently) Thank you. You’re all right. (They 
climb out of window). 

Coppy. Oh, dat’s all right. It don’ hoit a cop 
te have a heart w’en guys is hard up. (No sooner 
have they disappeared than Coppy unbuttons his 
coat, disclosing a burglar’s bag underneath it. 
Takes loving cup, and puts it into bag. Gathers 
in all the silverware and valuables, articles in 
sight. Then goes to telephone). 

Coppy. (At telephone) Riverside 4200—Hello 
—Is dis you, Frenchy? I’m in de house—Every - 
t’ing is O. K.—Bigges’ streak o’ luck we ever had. 
Some guys got in ahead o’ me—Gone now—Left 
all dere swag here fer me—Say dat bull uniform 
wuz chust de t’ing—I’ll tell yez about it w’en I 
sees you—Yez’ll die laffin’—Got free hund’ed an’ 
fifty bones cash. Bring de machine aroun’ right 
away. Got all we kin carry away. Hurry up! 

CURTAIN. 


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